City Kids
by sarfateith
Summary: Going out to some slutty bar with Rachel wasn't exactly her idea of a great time. The bartender, though, somehow manages to change her mind about that. AU Sebastian/Santana in NYC.
1. Chapter 1

_"you wanted to be in love, and he just happened to get in the way." - richard siken_

* * *

She was skeptical, at first. Very much so. The idea of going to a party where all of her friends are going to be hooking up, leaving her in the dust, wasn't exactly something Santana was eager to do. But she went anyway, because her best friend begged her to, and she couldn't say no when it was a chance to get out of their stuffy apartment they shared.

It wasn't five minutes before her friend had been tugged away, the lips of someone Santana wasn't familiar with kissing her roughly up against a wall. She shivered as her friend started responding, walking away with her arms crossed. Plopping in front of the bar, she notified the bartender to hook her up with some vodka, and he brings it to her quickly, a grin on his face.

"What're you smirking about, Twink?" She snaps, downing some alcohol and closing her eyes in frustration.

"You look like you're not here by choice," He replies easily. "I get a lot of people like that here. Not many people are fond of night clubs with flashing lights and constant public sex."

She cocks her head to the side a little. "Good guess. My friend, Rachel," She nods at the tiny brunette grabbing at a guy she suspects to be a prostitute. "She said we'd have fun here. Looks like she was right about herself." The bartender laughs, another smile gracing his face.

"Sorry about that." He leans over the counter and refills her glass, pouring one for himself. "Your drink's on me."

"I don't want your pity, asshole." She replies bitingly, and he winks at her.

"What, I can't buy a girl a drink?" He throws up his hands sarcastically, and she laughs a little, despite herself. "Besides, I only want your name."

"Santana Lopez." She says-or shouts, rather, because the music turns loud at that point. He grabs her hand and squeezes it in a friendly manner.

"Sebastian Smythe. Say, how about we blow this joint and grab a coffee or something? I'm sure this bar isn't doing any favors for either of us. Besides, I know a place not far from here that's much quieter." He offers, and Santana looks over for her roommate, who suddenly disappeared. _Figures_.

"As long as you're still paying," She replies, smirking at him.

"Sounds fine. I'll be right there." He darts behind the bar, and a few moments later appears again, and she notes that he's lean, with a decent sense of fashion. He shrugs on his jacket and then extends his arm for her to walk in front of him. She opens the door and steps out into the cold New York City air with a shiver.

"This way," Sebastian says while walking in the opposite direction, and she runs after him only to fall into step beside him as they walk the empty streets of the city at midnight. "So, Santana Lopez, are you from New York originally?"

"Nope. I was born and raised in Ohio." She answers, shoving her hands into the pockets of her long jacket.

"Really?" He asks, eyeing her quickly. "I figured you'd be a Boston girl, or at least someone from a big city. You look so...comfortable here. It suits you." They keep walking in silence for a moment or two before she breaks the silence.

"What about you, Mister Smythe? You seem like you know your way around here. Are you a New York City native?"

"Nah. Born and raised in Paris."

"France?"

"No, New Jersey. Of _course_, Paris, France." He replies sarcastically, and she whacks him playfully in the arm. "Hey! You're spouting snide remarks, so why can't I?" She shakes her head, a smile on her face, and then he's grabbing her arm and tugging her towards a small coffee shop on a street corner. _Molly's_, she reads. It's small, and as they step inside, it smells like baking bread and coffee, two of her favorites. They sit down at one of the few window booths, and he orders two coffees with a smile. As they're waiting, he crosses his arms on the table and looks at her with a glint in his eyes.

"What are you looking at, Craigslist?" She snaps playfully, and he shakes his head, out of the reverie he appeared to be in.

"Nothing. So. This 'Rachel' you mentioned; your roommate?" He inquires, and she nods, rolling her eyes.

"She and I sped out of Lima as soon as we graduated, because we wanted, you know, to be free. The city spoke to both of us-she's just handling it differently, I guess." Santana thinks back to the prostitute she saw with her and cringes. He had looked like bad news.

"Mmm? How long have you been here?"

"Why do you want to know?" She replies, wondering why the hell she was talking to a stranger about all of this.

"I'm usually good at reading faces when it comes to meeting new people. But you're...different. I don't know how, but you're not an open book like everyone else. I just wanna try and map you out a little bit." He responds calmly. Their coffee arrives at that moment, and Santana is so drawn in by his personality, his cool exterior, that she almost completely forgets the time, and talks with him for almost an hour before she gets a text from Rachel, asking where she is.

"Fuck," She hisses, replying quickly with an "i'll be back in 20 minutes" and then slipping her phone into her pocket.

"What?" Sebastian asks, raising an eyebrow at her sudden rush.

"I totally forgot about the time, and if I'm not home soon, Rachel is gonna be so pissed off." She scoots out of the booth and grabs her purse. "Thank you for the coffee, Seb. It was cool meeting you."

"You too. Hey-" He says, grabbing her wrist gently and tugging her closer to him for a moment. She makes a startled noise, but doesn't move away as he gets up, putting his money down and picking up his jacket. "How about I walk you home or something? It's pretty late to be out alone for anybody."

"Sure," She finds herself saying, and by the time they're halfway there, she's got her arm looped in Sebastian's. He feels warm.

"I had fun." He says, looking down at her with a small smile. "You're different for a girl from Ohio. Pretty." The last word is breathed, so soft that she's not even sure if that's what he said.

"Me too," She replies, squeezing his arm. "Thanks for getting me away from Rachel and her 'paid-friend'." She giggles, and then it's quiet again, except for the sound of their heels hitting the sidewalk in unison. By the time they've reached her complex, she's exhausted and wants nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep for a while. She dislodges herself from him and gives him a tired smile, approaching the front door.

"Hey," He says suddenly, and walks up close to her. There's barely two inches of space between them, and she feels lightheaded at how close he is to her. He leans down and kisses her cheek, and she blushes when he stands upright again. "I'll text you, okay?" He says, his voice husky, and she just nods, looking down at her phone. She looks up, and he's walking back to wherever he lives.

"Later, Seb," She calls after him, but her voice is hoarse from anticipation. Her phone buzzes.

It's a text from Sebastian.

**we should do that again**


	2. Chapter 2

Santana doesn't actually see Sebastian again for a few weeks. She wants to text him, but thinks against it, seeing as she's cooped up in the apartment with Rachel and her (nasty) new boyfriend, who she asked to move in with them without her permission. She hates him, honestly. He treats Rachel like an object and Santana-well, he doesn't even acknowledge her existence. It's infuriating.

"Rachel," She hisses one day, pulling the tiny brunette aside and dragging her into the guest bedroom. "What the _fuck_ were you thinking when you brought your prostitute into the apartment?" Rachel stares at her, expression aghast.

"Brody is _not_ a prostitute! And he's my boyfriend, not yours, so you don't get to-"

"Don't even finish that sentence, Berry. First of all, I get to do whatever the fuck I want because I live here too, and it's not just your place. And second, he treats you like...like some stupid purse or whatever! What happened to when you had a guy who actually loves you?"

"Brody loves me." She says, but it sounds weak.

"Not like he should." Santana sets a hand on Rachel's shoulder, and she shrugs it off, moving away from her.

"What do you know about love? When was the last time you actually dated someone that wasn't Brittany? Because I remember picking you up off the floor when she broke up with you, and that was at _least_ a year ago." Rachel snaps, and Santana is quiet. She watches her roommate leave and then falls backwards onto the big bed, where she closes her eyes and sends angry thoughts in Rachel's direction. How dare she bring up Brittany? She had nothing to do with this.

She hears Brody walk in through the front door and groans audibly when she hears Rachel sucking face with him. Rolling over, she grabs a pillow and pulls it over her head, successfully blocking out the noise her roommates are making. Her phone falls out of her pocket in the process, and clatters to the floor.

"Fuck." She leans over and feels along the floor, looking for the blackberry with the now-scratched screen. After a moment, she gives up her comfortable position and gets off the bed, reaching under it to _finally_ get a hold of the damn thing. She turns it on and off once, just to make sure it still works. Her fingers drift over the keys, and she looks through her inbox, pausing as she finds Sebastian's text, still sitting untouched. She's about to put it down, but hears her roommate screaming her boyfriend's name, and changes her mind immediately. She texts him.

**u doing anything now?**

he replies a few minutes later, to her relief.

_no. y?_ **u want to grab lunch or s/t?** _sure_.

so she leaves the apartment quickly, slipping on her jacket and just missing the eventual yelling match that Brody and Rachel would have started.

To her surprise, she runs into Sebastian walking out the front door.

"How did you...?" She raises an eyebrow. "Do I have a stalker?"

"Hey, I remembered the look of your apartment. That's all. Plus, I live pretty close to here. Now c'mon. Are we going to get lunch, or are you planning on scolding me for picking you up?" He looks at her with a smirk, and she just whacks him in the arm.

"Shut up, Smythe."

"Resorting to last names, now, are we? Alright, Lopez, let's go." He takes her arm in his and they start walking, the space between them very narrow. They move together at a brisk pace, and even though it's 2:30 in the afternoon, the February chill seeps into her bones and makes her shiver. He feels this and wraps an arm around her, and she feels the warmth seeping through his jacket.

"Thanks, Seb." She mumbles, moving a little closer to him. He looks down at her and smiles warmly, and she feels her face heat up under his gaze.

"No problem, Santana. Now, where are we headed?"

"Ahm..." She completely blanks. Maybe it's because she never actually planned on a restaurant, and just wanted to get out of the apartment.

Maybe it was to see him.

"Hey, let's try this place over here." He says, breaking off her lost words. She looks up to read the sign.

"You really want _hibachi_? Really?" She asks, peeling herself away from him to give him a confused, judgmental look.

"Hey, I've never had it before. Have you?" She shakes her head. "Okay, good. Let's try something new, then. Besides, you're the one paying, so I don't want to be eating cheap."

"I'm paying?!" She repeats, a crease settling in between her eyebrows. He laughs, walking up the steps to the door.

"Santana, you invited me on this date. I'm expecting you to be a gentleman and pay." He winks at her and then walks inside, holding the door for her as she steps into the warmly lit restaurant.

They're seated at one of the grills, and as they wait for the chef to come and perform their meal, Santana turns to Sebastian.

"So this is a date, huh?" She asks, and he shifts a little on his seat.

"I figured it was. You asked me out to lunch. You look beautiful, by the way." His eyes look like he really means what he says, and they're searching her face, like he's memorizing her.

"I...thank you." She replies finally, and they drop the subject immediately. At that moment, their chef decides to step into the center of the massive table, his stove around him starting to heat up.

"Is this your girlfriend?" He asks Sebastian. Santana blushes, and Sebastian laughs (he's a great actor, she realizes) and puts a hand on her leg.

"Yep. It's our 5 month anniversary, and I thought I'd treat her." He looks at her expectantly, and she nervously laughs.

"Ahh, so cute. Now, food?" The chef says, immediately diving into the chopping and cutting of the onions in their meal. Sebastian leans over to her and starts to whisper in her ear.

"Listen, Santana, just play along with this. They love couples here. Almost always give discounts. The happier we look, the cheaper the meal." His lips are almost up against her ear, and she nods faintly, hyper-aware of the distance his face is to her own. The man cooking looks up at them, about to ask something, and Sebastian starts to play up their "relationship". He kisses her lips softly, quickly, and she blushes. His arm falls around her shoulder, and their legs are pressed together under the table because they're sitting so close to each other.

Their dinner is ready in about ten minutes, and every time the chef lights the onions on fire, Santana giggles in fear and awe. Sebastian just squeezes her, laughing along, and she really can't tell what's real or fake anymore. They finish eating by 4:00, and Santana pays. (The bill is really cheap. Sebastian was right.) They link arms as they leave, but halfway down the street, Santana stops them.

"What?" Sebastian asks, confusion masking his face.

"Can we not...do that thing again? Pretend to be dating? That just...that warped my brain completely. Really." The nervous laughter kicks in, and Seb smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"Yeah. Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." He murmurs, and she notices how he's removed his arm from her own.

"Hey..." She grabs his hand and he looks at her in surprise. "I had a great time being your fake girlfriend." She smiles at him, but he just slips his hand from her own and turns around, walking off into the distance.

She doesn't chase after him.

* * *

Lying in bed that night, she can't stop thinking about his face when he let go of her hand and walked away. She feels bad. Santana Lopez _never_ feels bad about what she does, but for some reason, she can't sleep over what she did. So she picks up her phone and calls him.

"Santana?"

"Sebastian, I'm sorry. For whatever I did. And I want you to come over tomorrow night for dinner or a drink or something. I feel bad for making you...you know. Sad. You know where I live, so I'll see you at 7:30." It kind of tumbles out all at once, and the silence on the other end makes her rethink her words, but then:

"You're being awfully assertive tonight." Sebastian chuckles. He sounds better. "Yeah, okay, let's do that. I'll see you at your place."

"I'll see you then." She confirms, and then hangs up. As soon as her head hits the pillows, she falls asleep and dreams of the mysterious bartender with the smile that makes her pink in the face.

* * *

Santana decides not to tell her roommates about Sebastian. She doesn't want them to think it's another fling, or that he's coming over for a date, because he's _not_. He's coming to have a drink. _That's all_, she's managed to convince herself. So she decides (against her good measure) to buy the two of them a dinner date somewhere across the city. She gives it to Rachel in the morning, and she squeals, hugging Santana tightly.

"You're so amazing, San, thank you so much! Oh, Brody and I are going to have the best time tonight! Thank you!" She babbles. "Are you sure you don't wanna come?"

"And be witness to your gross pda? No thanks, Rachel. That's for you two." Santana snarks, but Rachel can't detect the sarcasm, and continues to squeeze the life out of her. "Calm down. Hey, hey, Rachel, calm down! You should probably tell your pro-_boyfriend_, that you two have plans for tonight."

Rachel narrows her eyes at the almost use of "prostitute", but turns and starts shouting for Brody across the apartment. Santana exhales, realizing she had been holding her breath for some reason. The day passes quickly, and at 7:15, Rachel and Brody leave the apartment for their "romantic" dinner.

They walk downstairs and open the door, only to find a tall and lanky man standing-actually, more like waiting to get inside. Curiously, she watches him as she and Brody head off to their taxi. He walks inside casually, and once they're out of sight, she turns to her boyfriend and cocks an eyebrow.

"What was that about?" She asks, and he looks at her with confusion.

"What?"

"That weird guy walking into our place."

"Oh. Probably a pizza man or something. Hey, don't worry about it now. We're going out." He settles a hand high up on her thigh, and she moves it off of her with a soft grunt of disapproval. He doesn't hear.

Meanwhile, back at their apartment, Sebastian stands at the door of the place and knocks. There's a few moments pause, and then the door opens, and Santana smiles at him.

"No flowers, Romeo?" She asks, and he rolls his eyes, walking past her and into the big living room.

"Sorry, babe, got caught up in foot traffic." The pet name slips out by accident, and she freezes. "Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry, that slipped. I didn't mean to-" He starts, but she just laughs it off, grabbing a set of keys and walking over to the kitchen.

"You're a bartender. Come mix some drinks with me." She calls, and he follows her to the liquor cabinet with a smile. She sets out a bottle of vodka, no flavor, and several different brands of schnapps. He grins mischievously as ideas start forming in his head, and the first thing he says-

"Do you have shot glasses?"

She laughs. "Of course. How else would I fucking live with these morons?" Santana reaches up and opens a cabinet, stretching for the glasses at the top. Sebastian watches her, the way her tanned body moving causing her shirt to ride up and give him a glimpse of her bare lower back. He holds back a groan. She grabs the glasses, finally, and he averts his eyes just before she turns around. "So, what are you planning on concocting, Doctor Horrible?"

He grins at her sarcasm. "Firecracker shots. I figured, you know, you've got such nice schnapps here and we could all use some firecrackers right now."

"We're in the middle of February, and it's snowing like a bitch."

"There's no designated time for firecrackers, Miss Lopez. All year round. Let's be those morons who set shit off after the Fourth of July." He winks at her, and she just shakes her head with a smile.

"Are you going to make me regret this, Sebastian Smythe?" Her voice is playful.

"Of course, Santana Lopez. Why else would I be here?"

He pours the alcohol into both glasses and then opens the refrigerator and takes out the Tabasco and seltzer, pouring them into the glasses too. He mixes them with an easy shake, and then hands her one.

"Ready?" He asks, holding out his glass, and she nods, the grin on her face huge. "One...two...three!" They both knock the shot back together, and while Sebastian is used to the sting, the bite is a first for Santana.

"_Fuck!_" She shouts, slamming the glass onto the counter and coughing. Sebastian puts his glass down in a hurry.

"You okay, San?" He asks worriedly, but she just holds up a finger, putting a hand on her knee to catch her breath. After a moment, she straightens out, a devious smile gracing her face.

"Hit me up with another one, bartender." She giggles.

After three or four more rounds, they're both completely wasted, and Santana can't stop laughing at some really bad joke Sebastian just tried out on her. They've stopped drinking, but the alcohol is still flowing through their veins, and all sense of personal space has been lost, as they're grabbing at each other and talking with their faces too close together.

"Hey," Sebastian breathes. "Let's play some poker." Santana blinks a few times, and then deviously moves impossibly close to his ear.

"Let's play _strip_ poker." She murmurs, her lips brushing his earlobe slightly. He shivers, moving closer to her.

"That sounds fun."

She gets up and stumbles around the first floor, looks for some cards to play with, and then proceeds to plop on the ground once she finds them. "Come on Sebaaaaastian, let's plaay," She slurs, and he clumsily makes his way over to her, falling down next to her. They split the cards, and almost immediately Santana puts a pair down. She grins. "21. Take off that shirt, Seb." Her voice eggs him on, and he puts his cards face down before peeling his shirt off of his body. Bare torso and all, they go back to their game. He re-deals her cards, and again, she puts down a pair. This time, though, he matches her.

"16." They say in unison, and then she barks out a laugh, putting down another card and upping her card total to 20. He's got nothing.

"Pants next, bartender," She whispers, and he obliges, shamelessly slipping out of his jeans.

"Did you shuffle these cards, Santana?" He slurs, and she winks at him. "You'recheating. Cheater. Gonna get punished." His voice drops to a husky murmur, and he crawls up to her. The card game has been completely forgotten. He holds himself above her, a sly smile on his face, and she gazes up at him with eyes glazed over, lusting and drunk.

"Gonna tell me how bad I am? For bein'a cheater?" She drawls.

"Mmm. So bad, baby. You've been so _bad_," He breathes, and captures her lips in his own for a searing kiss. They part briefly for air and she laces her fingers in his hair. "Been so bad, Santana. Gonna teach you how t'be good." His voice is low, and she writhes under his touch as he unbuttons her blouse slowly. It comes off easily, and his lips immediately move to her collarbone, messy, open-mouthed kisses covering her hot skin. She's whimpering his name, and he moves lower, unbuttoning her jeans and sliding them off of her legs with surprisingly little struggle. The pumping of the alcohol makes him daring, brave, and he nips the insides of her thighs with his teeth. She gasps.

The doorknob turns. Neither of them notice.

* * *

**a/n: ohoho what's going to happen? STAY TUNED**


End file.
